Adrift
by Laziness Incarnate
Summary: FF6 - My attempt at explaining how, with Edgar's help, Setzer decides it's worth it to gamble his life away for certain things and certain people. Square never did tell us why he bothered to stay with the party. [One-shot]


FFIII (FFVI) is copyright Square.  I mean it.  I have so little right to these characters it's not even funny.   

Adrift

"You're leaving."

Setzer's hands did not pause for a moment as he heard this bald statement of fact.  Really, if was just too obvious to answer.  Instead, he continued to throw sacks of supplies into the cargo bay of the airship, only acknowledging Edgar's presence by tossing a few words over his shoulders:

          "You're awfully observant, for a king."

          If the gambler's insult bothered Edgar at all, he made no indication of it, merely watching as the white-haired man rhythmically lifted and heaved each bag.  Neither of them seemed uncomfortable with the silence, so they continued this way for a few minutes more, one watching while the other worked.  

It was Setzer who broke the silence. 

          "I don't suppose it would impose too much on His Majesty's delicate constitution to lend me a hand, would it?" he inquired in the polite lilt of a court noble.  Grinning, the gambler turned around expectantly to see if _that had provoked a reaction._

          But instead of the open smile or expression of mock indignation that Edgar should have been wearing, the young king wore a frown on his normally cheerful face.

          _But then, how should I know what to expect from this man anyway.  I only met him a couple weeks ago.  Although...Then he noticed that Edgar's frowning gaze was directed at the supply bag Setzer held in his hands.  __Oh._

_          "Look," the gambler snapped, dropping the bag and suddenly feeling an irrational annoyance, "I'm leaving.  Our deal was that I'd take you to the Empire and I did that.  Hell, I even risked my neck and got you out of there too, and that wasn't even part of the agreement.  End of story."_

          Edgar raised one elegant eyebrow and said calmly, "I'm not going to stop you."

          Setzer blinked a few times in surprise, then grinned as he answered, "Good.  That's exactly what I wanted to hear."  His good humor suddenly returned, he lifted up the supply bag from where he had dropped it and resumed loading the sacs into the _Blackjack._

          And Edgar stood there behind him, saying nothing, offering no aid; he simply watched.  And although the king no longer wore an open frown on his face, Setzer could still sense the stark disapproval of that gaze.  

          _Why don't you just go away if you're not here to stop me?_

_          Once all the bags had been loaded, Setzer slammed the storage compartment shut and began walking up the gangplank to the main part of the airship._

          _He's going to stop me...anytime now..._

_          "Aren't you going to even tell them you're leaving?"_

          _Hah!  I knew it._

          Setzer whirled around to face Edgar, his long coat flaring theatrically, his hair flying out in all directions.  He was on familiar ground again.  Grinning widely while wagging an admonishing finger in Edgar's direction, the gambler said cheerfully:

          "This is the best way to leave.  No awkward good-byes, no promises of return, no wondering what to say to a bunch of people I hardly know..."

          "You should know them!"  Edgar interrupted fiercely.  He gestured angrily toward Zozo, which lay far off in the distance, with a quick, stabbing motion.  "Those people up there...why don't you want to know them!"

          Stunned into silence, Setzer could not even feel annoyed at being interrupted, much less answer Edgar's demand.

          "Is this what you always do?  Meet people, become comfortably acquainted, then cut and run before things get harder?"  Edgar accused harshly.

          Regaining his voice, Setzer answered coldly, "Even if I do, how is it any business of yours?"

          "It's not only my business, it's the business of everyone you meet.  Including my friends."

          "Your friends," Setzer said, "have nothing that can keep me here."  Briefly, Setzer's mind wandered to the fascinating beauty they had left behind in the Empire—perhaps she might have held him here a little while—but no, in the end he would have left all the same, like with all the others.

          "You're lying."

          Setzer's eyes flashed with something akin to hot, raw anger, but then he turned around to compose himself.

          _After all, what does this spoiled king know anyway?_

_          When Setzer turned back to face Edgar, his pale, scarred face was nearly cheerful again.  The Figaran king seemed...what?  Disappointed?  Uncaring?_

          _Well, good for him._

_          Smiling in the most irritating way he knew how, Setzer said in a condescending tone, "Your Highness, there is a very good reason for why I have no desire to stay here.  Let me explain it to you."  The gambler leaned his back against the airship comfortably.  "There are two types of people in this world.  The first group includes the vast majority of people.  These people are happy to drift along and do what is expected of them.  Drifters."_

          Setzer paused to watch Edgar's reactions, but the king's expression did not change.

          "Then there is the second type of people, those who move and shape the world, always making changes and leading around the hapless, sheep-like masses.  They're the ones who cause all the trouble.  Shapers."

          Setzer pointed a finger at Zozo.  "And in your little group of friends, there are a _hell of a lot of the latter type of people."  Finished with his speech, the gambler haughtily turned his back to the king, dismissing him.  _

          Apparently, Edgar missed the hint.  

          "So you're a Drifter then?"

          "The lad has finally got it.  Yes, that is who I am—Setzer Gabbiani, he who happily drifts among the clouds."

          Ignoring Setzer's sarcasm, Edgar replied, "So you're just a gambler.  You've assessed the risks, and you've decided to quit playing while you're ahead, go back to drifting."  

          "Precisely."

          "You've decided to never do anything worthwhile in your life."

          Setzer spun around angrily.  He could not ignore that.

          "What is so worthwhile about this pathetic little group of yours?" he practically spat.  "What is worthwhile about pursuing a futile, hopeless cause that's bound to leave you lying dead in some forgotten Imperial prison? Is it worth all these lives?"

          Edgar was calm in face of this challenge.  Setzer wished, with an unreasonable amount of vehemence, that the king would rant and rave, giving control of the situation back to Setzer.  

But instead, he said calmly, "I will tell you what it has been worth to me.  It was worth taking the entire responsibility of kingship—my father wanted Sabin and me to split the kingdom equally, do you know that?  But I let my brother go, for his sake, and for the kingdom's sake.  Figaro can never be strong with two equal bloodlines sharing the throne, not with scheming nobles trying to subvert power, and the uncertain nature of future children.  And Sabin was never fit for the role, so I let him go.  I lost my brother, I lost my freedom.      

          "Figaro is completely my kingdom—and I hate it. I hated attending banquets with the Emperor, having to sit across from the murderer of my father and watch his power grow.  I wanted to denounce him, to kill him, _anything—but I smiled and laughed and signed a treaty of alliance.  What would my father say, if he knew I allied Figaro with his killers, with the ones he spent his life opposing?  _

          "I hate how I've given my life to this damnable crown, how with every action I must first calculate the terrible risks, weighing the welfare of my kingdom with the cause of the Returners.  You see, Setzer, I gamble, just like you, but the stakes _are worth handing my life over for.  It was all necessary, in a way that fulfillment of personal desire was not.  This is what we all have, and what you lack."_

          Strong words, but Edgar's face remained mostly impassive throughout the monologue.  Setzer wondered briefly if he recited the same story every time he tried to recruit a Returner, and the repetition of it had sucked away every bit of meaning out of those words.  But no, there had been flickers of emotions, deeply buried beneath the kingly visage, which threatened to spill over. It lent a quiet, unbearable truth to Edgar's words.

          But that's all they were: words.  Setzer responded as he always did.      

"Is the poor king tired of his work?  Does he want me to say 'Aw, poor Edgar' and give him a reassuring pat on the back?"

"I'm not asking for pity, or reassurance.  And you know it," Edgar said, a hint of accusation slipping into his voice.    

The gambler shook his head.  "You're asking for too much. You're asking me to believe that some cause is worth my life."

Edgar paused for a moment, then asked, "What about that girl up there that you just met, the half-esper?  What about Terra?  Look at what has been asked of her.  No—did anyone even ever ask?  We've pretended to give her choices, but..."        

          Setzer turned away from Edgar.  He closed his eyes in painful recognition.  He thought back to the strange, pale face with eyes that were too large, too dark for the small body that held them. 

          _She should have been a girl who could live out her life quietly, simply.  She should have been happy.  Instead, she has been forced into this role simply because of who she is._

          Setzer finally answered, "She's like you.  She needs your cause." 

          "Do you really believe that, Setzer?"  Edgar spoke softly, his accusing tone completely gone.

          The gambler deflated a little.  "I don't know.  I've pretended you can say people are one or the other—Drifters or Shapers—but I know bloody well that you can be both.  Neither. Or change from one to another. Whatever.  It doesn't matter a whit, because I am leaving."

          Edgar's eyes darkened a little.  "I guess, then, that I have changed nothing." 

          Setzer walked up the gangplank, onto his beloved airship.  He sat down at the helm, ready to take flight into the freedom of the clouds.  It would be so easy to return to his old lifestyle, attached to no one but himself, just another bird in the sky.  But his fingers hesitated at the helm of the ship; he took one look back and saw that Edgar was already walking away.  He was heading toward Zozo, his feet steady, his path straight.  He did not look back.

          Setzer remembered another person like that.  And he had followed that one, become too much like her.  He had shared in a dream, once.  

          And it had been a beautiful, foolish dream too.  

          "Damn it," he swore. "Damn it all to hell."

          Swearing all the way, the gambler descended from the _Blackjack, and started slowly tracing the path of Edgar's footsteps.  _

Author's Note: Oddly, the FF6 stories I've written have Edgar playing a huge part even though he's not my favorite character, much as I like him.  I guess I find him easier to write than my real favorite (Locke).


End file.
